


Here and Now

by SydneySunshine



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1785649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneySunshine/pseuds/SydneySunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks. Not enough time, but they'll make the most of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> I keep trying to write things with a plot, and I end up with pages and pages of Logan and Veronica talking and hanging out. What can you do? This is me mashing several of those things together and seeing what sticks.

Logan hovers in the doorway of Keith’s hospital room, feeling hopelessly out of place. Veronica is asleep, curled up in a hard plastic chair in a manner that absolutely cannot be comfortable, but he knows first hand how little rest she has gotten over the past couple of days and is reluctant to wake her.

He is still loitering in the doorway, watching her sleep and trying to decide which part of everything about this scenario is the most surreal, when he hears his name and looks back towards the patient. 

Keith is awake, beckoning him toward the bed and Logan approaches cautiously, more horrified than he wants to admit by the sheer scale of damage Veronica’s father has managed to survive. 

“Can you –,” Keith’s voice is weak, catching in his throat as he wiggles his fingers in the direction of the water jug on the tray table in front of him. Logan grabs the mug next to it and holds the straw to Keith’s lips carefully, pulling it back when he starts to cough. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Do you need anything else? I can get someone-“

“They’ll be here. Soon as I wake up, they give me something and I’m out again.”

Logan nods, for lack of any other response because what do you say when someone has that many broken bones? Medicated sleep has to be better than awake and in pain and he finally says so.

“I’d ask how you’re feeling but I assume the answer is still pretty terrible. Sleep’s probably the best thing.”

“So they keep telling me. Logan, I want to thank you—“

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course I do. We both know what would have happened if you hadn’t pulled me out of there. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Logan barely resists the impulse to add ‘sir’ out of habit when confronted with an authority figure. Even immobilized in a hospital bed, Keith still has that indefinable air of former sheriff slash over protective father about him. 

“You were pretty quick on your feet there, getting me out before…” Keith’s voice trails off and Logan knows without it being said that someone has told him about Sacks. About just how much damage that truck intended to do. 

“Yeah, well – the armed service devotes quite a bit of training time to that whole good under pressure thing. They really don’t like it if you panic while flying one of their fancy planes.”

“Armed services, huh? Not where I would have guessed you’d end up.”

“More like the brig?”

“Maybe. Navy was a better choice.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How the hell did you even come up with that as an option?”

“It was… sort of a dare initially, but it turned out to suit me.”

“How so?”

Logan swallows – even after six years, he’s still hasn’t found a good way to sum up the sense of belonging the navy has given him or the way the structure and discipline came as such a relief, after years of too much freedom and nobody to give a damn. It’s even harder to sum up when you’re explaining it to the man who remembers you as basically the worst version of yourself. 

“Discipline mostly. You may remember I was kind of lacking it at the time.”

“I recall.”

“The structure. Routine. The comradery, I guess. Not things I had a lot of experience with and turned out it was good for me. I was as shocked as you are, believe me.”

“It takes a strong person to turn their life around like that.”

Logan swallows, absorbing the implicit compliment as he tries to come up with an appropriate response but Keith saves him the trouble by continuing to speak.

“It can’t have been easy, breaking some old habits, I mean.”

“Not easy, no. Necessary.” Of that, Logan is sure. The clarity of that moment when he faced himself in the mirror and realized who he didn’t want to be was something that had stuck with him. 

Keith moves restlessly on the bed, wincing as he searched for a more comfortable position and Logan’s eyes shift to the door in search of the nearest dispenser of pain meds. 

“I can find a nurse. See if –“

“Hard to get comfortable, that’s all. It’s fine.” As if on cue at this blatant fabrication, a nurse appears, pushing Logan aside to fuss over the monitors and produce more of the pain relief Keith claimed not to need. 

“Dad?” Veronica stands up, stumbling slightly on cramped legs and Logan steps back to offer his hand, grateful beyond measure for something tangible to do. Smiling slightly, he tries not to wonder what it means that Veronica takes his hand without hesitation and tangles their fingers together for a second even knowing her dad is watching. 

He releases her hand as Veronica gets her balance and steps forward to fuss over her father, consulting with the nurse and smoothing a gentle hand across his head as Keith smiles up at her.

Their conversation is brief, as Keith is clearly heading back towards sleep, and Logan listens as Veronica tells her dad not to worry about anything and assures him she'll take care of it all. 

Logan leans against the wall as they talk, lost in thought as he wonders what it must be like to have that thing that Veronica and Keith have - that trust and love and utter certainty in each other. 

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by Veronica slipping her hand back into his and Logan smiles down at her, leaning down to kiss her forehead just because he can. Because for now, that’s allowed. 

Keith has drifted off again and Veronica jerks her head towards the door, leading him out of the room with one last glance behind her.

“You hungry?” He asks, as they walk hand in hand out of the hospital and she nods, leaning against him as though she’s not quite awake and too tired to hold herself up. 

“Want to stay at my place tonight? Dick made lasagna.”

“Dick cooks?”

“And his skills are not limited to special brownies. He’s pretty good actually.”

“Not sure I can wrap my head around that one, but why not? Lasagna sounds good.”

Veronica collapses into the passenger seat when they reach the car, leaning her head back against the headrest as he drives. 

“I’m so tired. I don’t know why.”

“Adrenaline crash probably. There’s been a lot going on the last few days.”

“You could say that.” She’s grinning up at him now, her hand reaching out to trace an absentminded pattern on his thigh as he drives. 

Nine years of changes in both of them but this might be his favorite discovery so far – she is more tactile than she used to be. There are more idle touches, more blurring of their personal space when they’re together and maybe it’s just a reaction to recent events, but he is enjoying the hell out of it nonetheless. 

“Your dad seemed better today.” 

“Getting there. Slowly. It’s going to be a long recovery.”

He nods in agreement, wondering how to broach the subject of how she’ll handle that from New York when Veronica brings it up for him. 

“I’m staying in Neptune.”

He glances at her briefly but her face is relaxed, no apparent conflict as she tells him she’s giving up everything she has worked toward for the last three years.

“For your dad, or for you?”

“Both. He needs me, but it’s where I want to be too.”

“Neptune will be better for it.”

She smiles up at him at that, her hand tightening on his leg and Logan has to force himself to focus on the road instead of getting lost in her. 

“Let’s hope my dad shares that point of view.”

“He’ll be happy to have you home, won’t he?”

“I hope so. He’s pretty attached to the idea of me as a big shot city lawyer.”

“Are you attached to that idea?”

“No. I thought- Columbia is so competitive. It’s sort of drilled into you, that’s what you're supposed to want. But it’s not me.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Your dad wants you to be happy.”

She nods, turning away from him to look out the window at the water as they cruise along the beach towards Dick’s house. 

They ride in silence for a few minutes and that’s another thing he appreciates now. How easy the silence can be - comforting, where once he might have found it oppressive.

He breaks the silence reluctantly, but he spent the day on base today and there are realities that need to spoken out loud sooner or later. 

“So I’m going to need you to wear that trucker hat when you tell Lamb you’re sticking around. I want to see that asshole’s face when he realizes he has a permanent thorn in his side.”

She grins at that before her smile fades as the implication of his words sink in. He won’t be here to see it for himself. 

“So. Deployment, huh? Everything as scheduled before… Carrie and everything else?”

“Yes.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Six months” he tells her, wishing there was a better way to ease into this discussion. 

She takes a deep breath, and Logan holds his wondering if this is when she’ll pull away. 

“I want to talk about this” she tells him finally, as they pull into the driveway at Dick’s “But we can we table it for now? Just enjoy this,” she waves her free hand back and forth between them to indicate whatever ‘this’ is. “And live in a denial about the you going away part for a bit longer.” 

He nods, because nothing sounds better to him than the idea of just being with her so he closes his eyes as he leans across the console to kiss her and hopes they’ll find a way to talk about the rest. 

** 

Veronica has commandeered her dad’s car while he’s out of action and while it’s missing the top down, wind in her hair action of Logan’s ride, she is loving the feeling of freedom that driving gives her. She hadn’t even realized it was something she missed after four years of Manhattan and too many subway rides to count. 

She steers the car towards the beach, towards Logan who is waiting for her at Dick’s. They’ve spent the past week floating back and forth between Keith’s guest room and the not quite a room nook with the killer views where Logan is still crashing. 

It should be strange how quickly they’ve settled into this routine – there’s her place and his place and there is no question that they’ll be sharing the space, wherever they decide to stay. But his imminent departure looms over them and by mutual and unspoken agreement, they are wasting none of this time they have left. 

She pulls in beside Logan’s BMW and locks the car behind her. Somewhat unnecessarily, she thinks, because the slightly battered Ford is going to be no smart car thief’s first choice in this neighborhood, but old habits die hard. 

Veronica takes a breath as she lets herself in, trying to leave behind the omnipresent worry about her dad and the business and the future and everything else because Logan is leaving soon and she’ll have nothing but time to worry about the rest of it. 

Of all the things Veronica expected to find when she entered living room – and it’s Dick’s place, so that’s a pretty long and weird list – Logan wielding an iron had never really crossed her mind. And yet there he was – expertly creasing the sleeves of his uniform like it was easy. Like it was no big deal at all and Veronica stops in her tracks to observe domesticated Logan in action. 

He hangs the uniform on the door behind him, and notices Veronica standing there, with her mouth hanging open, and grins.

“I’d have learned to iron years ago if I knew this was the way to render you speechless,” he informs her.

Logan strikes a pose, iron held at a jaunty angle as he laughs at her stunned expression, and Veronica is overcome with a wave of emotion so powerful it almost knocks her down. Unwilling, or unable, to put a name to it, she launches herself towards him instead and thank god Logan has always been quick on his feet because he’s tossed the iron aside and moved forward to meet her before Veronica has time to say catch. 

He catches her around the waist and lifts so they are face to face and she leans into his kiss with a smile, muttering “I don’t know what’s weirder – that you iron now or that I’m so into it”.

Logan is still laughing as he returns the kiss with interest, stepping backward to fall onto the couch and pulling Veronica with him. 

“Did I mention I can cook too?” He asks, settling them more comfortably on the couch as Veronica straddles his lap and makes herself at home. 

“Ooooh, tell me more, sailor.” She leans down to nip gently at his neck as Logan pulls her closer into his body and starts talking with just a little less laughter in his voice. 

“Life skills. Necessary once the Neptune Grand booted me from the tender loving care of their housekeeping and room service departments.”

She pulls back to look at him, suddenly frustrated by all the gaps in her knowledge of him. 

“They booted you out?”

“More of a mutual decision. It wasn’t real life, you know?”

“No. Excellent cheeseburgers though.”

“True story.”

There are more questions she wants to ask, like where did he go and why and so many others, but wandering hands and clever lips are effective distractions and Veronica decides to focus on removing his shirt and worry about returning to the Q & A portion of the evening later.

They are half way out of their clothes and making out on the couch like teenagers (and some things about them are just like she remembers) when Veronica belatedly realizes that while there’s zero chance of getting busted by her dad this go around, their current location means a better than average chance of getting busted by Dick which isn’t a scenario she relishes having to live down. 

“We should-,” and Veronica waves her hand in the direction of the bedroom. Or rather the hole in the wall with a bed in it, and – very inconveniently – no door, that Logan currently calls home. “Remind me again why you don’t have a place of your own?”

“Deployment.” He mumbles between kisses “Rented out my place.” Kiss. “No point in kicking them out”

Veronica pulls back, running her thumb over his lips and tightening her legs around him enough to elicit a groan. 

“Deployment. That’s happening soon.”

He stills beneath her, tenses, wary at the sudden shift into dangerous territory and Veronica runs her hand down to his shoulder, anchoring herself. Reassuring him. 

“I thought we weren’t talking about that yet.” He says, tightening his grip on her hips as he meets her gaze. 

“Well, I’ve been looking into this whole navy thing,” she responds, with a smile and another kiss that threatens to distract them both from the conversation entirely “and it turns out that maintaining my denial about you having to go away does not actually mean they’ll just back off and let me keep you.”

He grins at that, relaxing just a little at the implication that she wants to keep him around. That this conversation is going in a “how are we going to do this?” direction, rather than a “Well, this was fun” kind of kiss off. 

“You could try batting your eyelashes at my CO. I’ve seen you take down far more imposing types with those bad boys.”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it. So tell me about these boats of yours. What’s the cell signal like out there in the big blue ocean?”

“Spotty. The wifi’s usually pretty good.”

“So theoretically you could send the occasional email. Maybe skype once in a while? In between flying planes and taking orders and whatever else it is you do out there of course. What do you do, come to think of it?”

“That. And a lot of sitting around waiting for things to happen too.”

“So you’ll have some time then. Drop me a line, give me a call. You know, if you feel like it.” She pauses, collecting her thoughts as she wonders if this is too much but she says it anyway “I don’t want this to be over. I want us to work out how to do this. is that something you-”

Veronica is the one tensing up now, her words trailing off in the brief second she wonders if she’s alone out there on this limb. Then Logan is lunging up to catch her mouth with his as he mutters “Always.” 

Veronica melts back into him and just like that, discussion time is over and he is lifting her up (and wow, does she owe the Navy one for the sheer physical strength he deploys to continuously good effect when they are together) and moving them towards the bed in the alcove and toward that particular brand of oblivion that is all the two of them together. 

**

It’s well past 8am, the sunlight is creeping in through the curtains on the window and Dick can be heard through the curtain, pottering around the kitchen and offering up a very off key and customized rendition of “Get Lucky”. 

Veronica has been lying on her side watching Logan sleep for almost an hour now. It’s been over a week since the night they reestablished their rights to watch each other sleep in a vaguely creepy fashion and she’s still not tired of tracing all the little differences in his face. The new angles, the tiny lines around his mouth and eyes, all of it telling the story of the years she’s missed and it’s a compelling story at that. 

Veronica’s never been one for sleeping in, but over the past few days, when everything outside of this has involved crushing stress and fear and more than a bit of panic, she’s come to appreciate the beauty of consciously ignoring the alarm and letting the outside world wait a little bit longer. 

Finally deciding there’s a pretty solid limit on how long she can just watch him sleep without crossing over into weirdo territory, Veronica props herself up on one hand and trails the other gently over Logan’s face then across his shoulders, down his chest. He catches her hand before it heads further south and links their fingers together. 

“Good morning to you too.”

“So I was thinking.”

“Before coffee and everything?” Logan props himself up to face her, tightening his grip on her hand just enough that she wonders if he thinks she’ll bolt, like she would have once upon a time when things got harder. She tightens her grip on him instead. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Tell me about deployment.”

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Where are you? What are you doing?”

“Different each time usually. A lot of that stuff, we’re not supposed to get into.”

“Okay. So you’re just floating around on your big boat in the middle of the ocean. One of the oceans, out there somewhere. For months at a time.”

“Sort of.”

“And I won’t know where you are exactly, or what you’re doing every day.”

“Not always, no. It’s pretty intense. And I know I don’t really have a right to ask you to deal with that. To wait, or whatever.”

“Yes, you do.” She interrupts him. 

“What?”

“Have the right to ask me. Of course you do. This isn’t just situational for me, Logan. It’s not trauma or to relieve tension or, I don’t know, temporary. I meant what I said last night. I want this. You. Us.”

He responds with “Me too” so quickly that he cuts her off and Veronica has never felt more relieved to be talked over. She can’t control the smile breaking out over her face so she ducks her head into his shoulder to regroup as Logan tugs her closer. 

“So we have a deal then,” she says finally, forcing herself to meet his eyes again. 

“It’s really what you want?”

“Stop trying to give me an out here, Logan. I’m sure. Are you?”

“Of course. It’s not easy - the waiting, crappy communication. The distance.”

“Wondering if you’re off getting yourself blown up while I’m chowing down my morning pastry.”

“Unlikely. But there are… risks.”

“I think I’d like to stay in denial about that part of it for a bit longer. Look, do I wish we had more time before you go and I have to think about those risks all day every day? Of course. But we can do this.”

“Easy’s not really our style anyway, is it?”

“Not so much. Well,” she rolls into his side, relaxing muscles she’d unwittingly tensed as they navigated their way through what felt like a conversational minefield. “That was a lot of serious talk before coffee. You want-”

He cuts her off again, with a mumbled “Oh, I want” and Veronica finds herself pulled flat on top of his body so they’re face to face and his arms are wrapped around her waist like a vise as he grins up at her. 

“We need to celebrate” Logan informs her. 

“Celebrate what?”

“Our very first relationship conversation that didn’t end up with us tearing strips off each other.”

“Look at that, it’s like we’ve matured or something” She’s smiling too as she leans down to kiss the grin off his face.

“Perish the thought.”

“So celebrating, huh? What did you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas” He rolls them over as he speaks but before he can elaborate, the curtain separating the alcove is flung open. 

“Pants on, kids, I’m making French toast.” Dick informs them, as he turns on his heel and marches back to the kitchen, leaving the curtain hanging open and shouting back over his shoulder “Tops are optional.” 

“Remind me why you don’t have your own place again?” Veronica demands as she accepts the t-shirt Logan tosses at her and pulls it over her head. 

“He does make excellent French toast,” Logan points out, doing his best to swallow a smile 

“Okay, but you’re not going to live here forever, right?” Veronica complains as she tugs on her jeans and ogles the view as Logan dresses “Because I have to tell you, I think that’ll test this relationship way more than the distance thing will.”

“I’ll kick my tenants out immediately, promise.” He holds out his hand and when Veronica takes it, pulls her to him for a thorough kiss until Veronica pushes him away.

“Nope, celebration postponed. I want to taste this “excellent French toast” you speak of”

“Never get between Veronica Mars and breakfast foods. Now, that I remember.”

“Then move it, buddy” She grumbles, and Logan obediently steps aside and lets her tug him toward the smell of food.


End file.
